’TIS sunrise over Watson, <br />Where I sailed out to sea, <br />On that wild run to London <br />That wrecked and ruined me. <br />The beauty of the morning <br />On bluff and point and bay, <br />But the Lily of St Leonards <br />Was fairer than the day. <br /> <br />O Lily of St Leonards! <br />And I was mad to roam— <br />She died with loving words for me <br />Three days ere I came home. <br /> <br />As fair as lily whiteness, <br />As pure as lily gold, <br />And bright with childlike brightness <br />And wise as worlds of old. <br />Her heart for all was beating <br />And all hearts were her own— <br />Like sunshine through the Lily <br />Her purity was shown. <br /> <br />O Lily of St Leonards! <br />My night is on the track, <br />’Tis well you never lived to see <br />The wreck that I came back. <br /> <br />A leaden sky shuts over <br />A sobbing leaden sea, <br />For the Lily of St Leonards <br />Is never more for me. <br />I seek the wharf of Outward <br />Where the deck no longer thrills <br />Where she stood with great tears starting <br />Like the lights on dark wet hills. <br /> <br />The world was all before me <br />The laurels on my brow— <br />’Twas the world-star of the rovers, <br />’Tis the Star of Exile now.<br /><br />Henry Lawson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-lily-of-st-leonards/
